Ye Chuxue had just reached the end of the corridor. She thought she would lay eyes on some precious treasure, but what met her gaze instead was a shadowy figure, lingering like a ghost.
Even if it was only a silhouette, she recognized it instantly.
No—she would recognize Song Wanníng even if she turned to ash.
The moment Ye Chuxue recalled how she had nearly died because of Song Wanníng, the fury in her chest surged uncontrollably. Without thinking, she shouted.
But the moment the words left her mouth, she regretted it. Her master wasn't here. She was no match for Song Wanníng on her own. What if Song Wanníng tried to kill her again?
Panic clawed at her chest. Ye Chuxue stumbled backward a few steps, cursing herself for her foolishness. She had lost her composure.
Too late.
Song Wanníng had already turned around.
"Tsk... Well, if it isn't our dear Ye Chuxue. Martial niece Ye...
Your luck must be something else. You're still not dead."
Her voice carried a faint mockery, enough to make Ye Chuxue's blood boil. Since escape was no longer an option, what was there to fear?
Ye Chuxue straightened her spine and snapped coldly, "Song Wanníng, surprised to see me alive? I'm sorry to disappoint you. I am Heaven's chosen. I was never meant to die! But people like you, full of malice, will surely be punished by the heavens!"
Everything Song Wanníng had done—wasn't it exactly like those venomous side characters?
Driven by jealousy, always scheming against her, always laying traps. But in the end, those kinds of people were destined to become stepping stones beneath her feet.
Song Wanníng would never have the last laugh.
"Haha... Heaven's chosen..." Song Wanníng laughed aloud again, her thoughts drifting back to memories of her previous life.
Her gaze turned cold. With a sudden swipe, a hand of spiritual force materialized and clamped around Ye Chuxue's throat.
With a flick of her wrist, Ye Chuxue was flung like a rag doll.
BOOM—
The impact echoed through the cave, making the ground tremble.
But Song Wanníng wasn't done.
She struck down with a brutal palm.
A blow from someone in the Divine Transformation stage—even partially restrained—was still overwhelming for Ye Chuxue.
PUH—
Blood splattered violently as Ye Chuxue's bones shattered under the pressure. A scream tore from her lips, twisted with agony.
The pain curled her body into a trembling ball. Every slight movement felt like knives slicing through her bones. She could barely stop herself from spasming.
Tears streamed down her face, but the fire in her eyes hadn't dimmed.
With bloodshot eyes locked onto Song Wanníng, Ye Chuxue growled through gritted teeth, "You think you're something special, Song Wanníng? You just started cultivating a hundred years before me... That's all! If I were you... I would've already reached Divine Transformation... and ascended!"
The words she had buried for so long finally spilled out, without a shred of restraint. "You... You only have what you have because of the Song family. You were born lucky. What's so great about that? Without the Song family, you'd be nothing!"
In her previous life, Ye Chuxue had despised those rich second-generation brats the most. Always relying on wealth and family, acting arrogant and reckless, never once caring about others.
She was nothing like them. Everything she had was earned through her own hard work, step by step. Her gaze was filled with pure condemnation. That righteous indignation—her posturing—made Song Wanníng laugh aloud.
Step by step, Song Wanníng approached, then raised her foot.
And stomped it directly on Ye Chuxue's face.
The pale skin of her cheek instantly flushed red from the force. Ye Chuxue gasped, enraged and humiliated, trying to wriggle free.
"Song Wanníng... let me go!!!"
How could Song Wanníng humiliate her like this?
Had she gone mad?
But Song Wanníng only tilted her head, smiling faintly. "Ye Chuxue, is it really so hard to admit you're jealous?
You keep accusing me of relying on the Song family... Isn't it just because you have no one to rely on?
So what if I do lean on the Song family? They're my family.
If you're truly so righteous, then swear an inner demon oath. Swear that if you were born into a family like mine, you would have cast it all away and walked the path alone."
There was no sympathy in Song Wanníng's eyes. Only scorn.
Ye Chuxue's disdain was nothing more than sour grapes.
She had always used morals and ideals to paint herself as different from the rest, yet never once dared to face her true desires.
Utterly hypocritical.
Each word pierced Ye Chuxue's heart like a blade, slashing through her defenses, striking at her most hidden truths.
Yes. She was jealous. She was resentful.
Why did someone like Song Wanníng get to have everything—noble lineage, rare talent?
Everyone catered to her, adored her.
So Ye Chuxue had begun to claw her way up, fighting to prove she was just as good. Everything had been going according to plan—until it wasn't.
Song Wanníng only grew brighter and brighter, while she and her master seemed cursed, their fortunes fading fast.
And the root of it all... was Song Wanníng.
She was her fated nemesis. Only one of them could survive.
With venomous hatred in her eyes, Ye Chuxue glared up at Song Wanníng, unwilling to yield.
But what greeted her... was the sole of Song Wanníng's shoe.
The hard sole crushed her lips. With one push, her mouth split open. Blood gushed from the torn skin.
"Mmmph—!"
Ye Chuxue thrashed violently, her eyes now consumed by madness and rage.
She was going to kill Song Wanníng.
Kill her.
Kill her!
"Tsk. Those eyes are an eyesore," Song Wanníng murmured.
The tip of her shoe shifted downward.
And landed squarely on Ye Chuxue's eyes.
"AAAHHH—!"
Ye Chuxue screamed, flailing wildly, trying to claw at Song Wanníng. But her shattered bones barely let her lift her arms.
Even if they hadn't been broken, what use would that be against someone like Song Wanníng?
Panic set in.
Ye Chuxue reached into her spiritual sense, drawing out all the treasures from her storage ring in desperation, hoping to land a blow on her tormentor.
She didn't realize she was feeding herself to the beast.
Song Wanníng chuckled softly. Without hesitation, she snatched up the items, then wiped away Ye Chuxue's spiritual mark as though peeling dust from her sleeve.
PUH—
Ye Chuxue spat out a mouthful of blood. Her body slumped, completely drained. Her face was deathly pale. Blood trickled from her eyes, nose, mouth, and ears like crimson threads.
She hated her.
She hated Song Wanníng with every fiber of her being.
How could she do this?
Her Dao heart cracked again. Her inner demons surged like a tidal wave, filling her mind with venom and chaos.
And the faint floral scent at the cave's entrance—once unnoticeable—now bloomed with hidden menace, amplifying her hatred and desire with each breath.
She was losing control.
All reason vanished, replaced by an animalistic scream that tore from her throat.
The once pure and delicate orchid had been soaked in blood and corrupted by madness.
There was no turning back.